Wednesday, July 30, 2008

I'm not breaking any rules to tell you that I've been in Europe for several weeks. I've done a lot of train riding -- and I love trains. So civilized, so much less stressful than airplanes and airports, and so open to sexual adventures. More on that later. I must also tell you about my two ... goodbye parties as I left Seattle. And note that we have been given the quality seal by Jane's Guide.

For now, I am fascinated by the poll this week. For the record: I am satisfied and highly sexed. It's not surprising that lots of men want more sex, especially more frequency. Sad to say, men stay horny forever, while many women fade in their desire, especially as they reach menopause. That won't be me, babes.

Meanwhile, I know we have a significant cohort of female readers, so I am surprised that there are fewer votes for better quality sex. Back in the day, when I was in college with horny guys why just wanted to hop on and get off, quality was something I knew I wanted, but didn't know what it would be. Now I demand it. Then someone who reads this blog votes that sex isn't all that important to him or her. Hey, I'm grateful you're reading.

As for you poor babies in dry spells. Get out there. Personals are a great start. Just be honest about your bottom line.

Sunday, July 27, 2008

I received an email from a man who said he loved going down on women, he could do it "for three or four hours," and he wondered why some women didn't like cunnilingus.

My advice was, first, most women don't want you down there for three or four hours. We couldn't handle it. But I give an A for effort. A man who loves cunnilingus is on his way to being a good lover. But...he's got to take his time. For example, don't underestimate the value of foreplay and kissing (there are hundreds of different ways to kiss and caress alone). Be willing to heat her up once you go down there, too. Different tongue strokes...tongue fucking. Become very plugged in to what she's feeling and go with it.

Below is an old post I did on this subject on The Fellatrices. One more thing: some women are fucked up about cunnilingus -- it's "nasty to put your mouth down there" or they are afraid to lose control. With the right foreplay and communications, you might be able to break through this barrier (and she will always love you for it). Otherwise, beware. You will have a sex life that is highly constrained and slowly dies.

Otherwise, here's advice for the Fluent Cunnilinguist:

You gentlemen want blowjobs. But it’s better to give than to receive. And if you want to receive, you’d better be good at giving.

I can’t speak for any woman but myself, but I love to have my pussy licked. Show me a good cunnilinguist, and I’ll show you a man whose dick I will happily, greedily worship with my mouth.I can’t speak for any woman but myself, but I love to have my pussy licked. Show me a good cunnilinguist, and I’ll show you a man whose dick I will happily, greedily worship with my mouth.

Here’s what I don’t want: A man who hurriedly licks my vagina, like it’s an ice cream cone, for a few seconds before he fucks me. I had a couple of those in college and even then I knew I was being dissed. Later, I wasn’t shy about demanding more, and if I didn’t get it, then the Detonate Relationship light was flashing red.

A good cunnilinguist loves women and their vaginas. It’s that simple. It’s that rare.

If you want to make love to me, be willing to take your time with my pussy. Can you kiss me, I mean really kiss me? Light brushes on my lips, deep, passionate tongue kisses. Then kiss and nibble my ears…I’m already getting wet.

Take your time. Take off my clothes the way you lusted after me in them, maybe with urgency, maybe teasingly, brushing the fabric across my nipples. Linger over my panties. Can you kiss me all over, suck my nipples and caress my breasts, lick and suck my toes, kiss and nibble on the inside of my thighs? You’ll have me moaning by then, and a lesser man might climb on and slide inside. But not you, my love.

No, you will lightly pass your face across my pussy, taking in my scent. You say you love that. As I lie there, spread open and vulnerable, you say I’m beautiful. I feel your tongue ever so lightly across my clit, just a taste, just a sample. Then I feel you exploring my labia with your tongue, all around, for a long time. You gently open my lips. You raise my legs and put my feet on your shoulders, the better to tongue-fuck me, going as deep as you can. I feel your tongue catching my juices as they flow to my perineum. You know how sensitive I am there, so you linger. One hand reaches up and gently teases my nipples. You stroke my thighs.

All this takes time. You are in no hurry, my love.

Only later do you start to work on my clit, first with very faint circles with the tip of your tongue. Then you go away again, sliding that tongue inside me, mapping all the folds of my pussy, before returning, again and again, each time changing the rhythm. Urgency takes me higher, but then you back off. I may even try to grind against you, but you are in no hurry. You may make me wait a bit more. God, I want to come! Wait, wait, not too fast, make it last! You are connected to me, sensing all this.

I shudder, holding your head, stroking your hair. My feet start to burn. I need to hold your hands now, need you to be with me, and you instinctively know this. We hold hands as you make circles with the flat edge of your tongue, now with more pressure. You use the same edge to move up and down my slit, now always returning to the clit. I have lost time now, the edges of my eyes flash with colors. You are doing things I can’t see, things I don’t have time to process, because you have made me lose myself. You took me up and slowed, up and slowed, but now it’s too late. I can’t suppress my screams, even if the neighbors hear…

You know when I am wrung out and you gently kiss my pussy, lick my thighs. You come up and hold me tight. You know I will get to you, Love, and it will be so good on the way to getting that full load shot down my throat.

Friday, July 18, 2008

I have hardly said those words because when I enjoy la petit mort everybody knows it -- my lover, the neighbors, passersby on the street. I've been a screamer ever since I really learned how to let myself go and come. It means my lover and I have a difficult time staying in bed-and-breakfasts. Otherwise, I love it. I come easily. With a skillful lover, I can also come several times.

Everybody's different. My friend Deb says she's very slow to heat up and needs a patient and skilled lover. She always thought she was a moaner until she had a two-year affair with a married man, a very very expert lover -- with him, she was a screamer. She surprised herself. Mary Beth tells me when she really gets going she's kind of a scremoaner...constantly giving cries and moans as she climbs the mountain o arousal and jumps off. Pam was a screamer. Megan couldn't come -- but I just think she was afraid to lose control. I'd bet my poor sister Amber has never come.

Make Linda Sue's Diary a Favorite

What makes Linda Sue wet

Who's the hottie?

I'm the sophisticated, educated woman in the power suit during the day...and you might know me as Linda.
Beneath it, I'm hornier at 40 than I was at 19, and telling strangers about my love life is therapy from my button-down professional world.
These are true stories. Only the names of the lovers have been changed to protect the (sometimes) innocent.
I welcome your comments and questions (ask me anything, really).